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Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Patagonia: False Summit

Karsten and I huddled on the summit of the aguja, buffeted by blasts of wind
sometimes in excess of 70mph, enough to literally knock us off our feet.We were both silently urging Kevin to climb
faster so we could escape the bitter cold and intense gusts as soon as
possible.

Theaguja of Cerro Penitentes (courtesy of Kevin Shon).

As Karsten belayed, I looked out to the west and north
from our perch atop this granitic pedestal.Cerro San Lorenzo was completely enshrouded in a capricious cloak of
cloud, spraying a tumultuous mist of graupel and blown snow from each of its
three disparate summits.An
ever-changing lenticular wave crashed over the main ridge, rushing eastward,
spitting pellets of icy, frozen fog outward and downward.The increased moisture set off point
avalanches in the wet snow on the opposing slopes across the valley.My face stung with the spray of blowing sand
and freezing rain from each rush of wind.

Kevin attained the summit just in time for the next wave
of frigid atmosphere to wash over us, leaving us stooped together clinging to
the rock for purchase.We hurriedly
prepared the ropes for rappel while I admired the fickle beauty of Patagonian
weather.

That morning after much time tent-bound, we had awoken to
clear skies and relatively calm winds.Energized by the sunshine, we left camp for a reconnaissance mission to
the glacier beneath Cerro San Lorenzo, hoping to get a view of our intended
climb before the weather worsened once more.Our efforts were disappointed, though, by a shifting cloud layer
ensconcing the entire east face.We knew
the mountain was there, but we could not see it.

We set our sights instead on the northmost aguja of nearby Cerro Penitentes,
crossing a braided gravel bar and drainage and ascending snow slopes and a
scree cone to the base of an 80-foot pillar of rock.A short 5.7 pitch lead to the summit, a
platform of rock perhaps 10 feet by 10 feet across, previously untouched by
man.

A hasty retreat then led us back to our base camp with
the promise of a hot drink and more time spent in the tent waiting on the
weather.Karsten dictated a cryptic
satellite phone text message to me and I relayed the unfortunate news:with only four days left to stay in the
mountains before we needed to leave for our flight, we wouldn’t be getting a
weather window.

The view of Cerro San Lorenzo during our Cerro Penitentes climbing window.

I sat silently for a moment as the weight of this
information settled.The tiny pillar we
had just climbed would be the only climbing we would do there.Two years of staring at photographs,
researching routes, weather, and approaches, meticulous planning, grueling
physical training, hungering for an attempt on a new route on this
mountain--all disappeared instantly, without so much as having set foot on the
glacier, let alone attempting to climb.

Hiking out during a short weather window.

Immediately after returning to the vehicle on our trek out.

We weighed our options and had only two real choices.First, we could wait in our tents and
hopefully get a small weather window large enough to try something else nearby
on Cerro Penitentes.Or, we could pack
up, hike out, and head back up north to hopes of better weather and other
objectives.After some discussion, the
choice seemed obvious.We came to climb,
and we likely wouldn’t be doing that sitting in a tent on a boulder field.

There was not much left to do at that point but to shift
my focus and my energy to new, alternate objectives.I walked to my tent and began packing my
sleeping bag.